Happiness is a Warm Gun
by DrWorm
Summary: Heero's thoughts before, during, and after battle. Set to the Beatles' song of the same name. Rated as such only for strong language.


All Gundam Wing characters are copyrighted by whom they are copyrighted by

All Gundam Wing characters are copyrighted by whom they are copyrighted by. I do not own any of them (well...'cept Trowa...he's my bitch J). The lyrics and music to "Happiness is a Warm Gun" are owned by the Beatles. The song is on the quite good "White Album". Yes, I've been listening to it a lot lately, and yes, I've developed a taste for their more drug-induced work. They (the lyrics) are copied exactly from the little booklet...so don't blame me if you think they're wrong. 

Also, I recommend you pop in the White Album while you read this (Uh...first disk/record I believe. While the second disk/record is good in it's own right...it's a bit _too_ weird for my tastes...except for "Everyone's Got Something To Hide Except Me and My Monkey". Awesome song. Listen to "Rocky Raccoon" too. Wait...that's on the first disk). Also, getting away from the fun topic of Beatle's tunes, try reading this aloud! Minus the song quotes, of course. It's real stress reliever because if you get very into it, you begin to scream and shout and get really sarcastic. Trust me, I've tried it. 

Happiness is a Warm Gun

Fuck you, bitch. We go my way. I feel the wind, even though there's no breeze to be felt. Advantage or disadvantage?

**~ She's not a girl who misses much/ Do do do do do do do do ~**

I lust for battle. I long to see the explosions, feel the screams of fear and pain penetrate the still of space, carrying all the way to my fingertips. I want to go on a mission? I go. Follow orders, yet still carry a sense of arrogance and independence, that's my motto. That way you don't have to think for yourself, yet you can take the credit.

**~ She's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand/ Like a lizard on a window pane ~**

I pray at the altar of solitude and discomfort. I may be intelligent, but I'm damn stupid as well. They, the others, all talk of things I don't dare dream about.

**~ The man in the crowd with the multicolored mirrors/ On his hobnail boots ~**

The opposite sex? What's that? I'm still five years old, blowing up things with cherry bombs, dying to hear the loud noise of a frog, or some other poor defenseless creature, exploding. I look at Duo, who always gets the girls, and I see a distorted reflection of myself. He channels the instincts differently. The wrong way.

**~ Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy/ Working overtime ~**

The right way is battle, always battle. Other people are trouble, opposite sex or no. They elicit emotions, which are wrong, wrong, wrong. I pour my heart into my work, and fervently ignore those that I work with. There is nothing I cannot do. I will never distract that mission. No, never. Not for people, not even for the occasional pangs of want, fear, lust, and need that I feel. Because emotions are human. I am not human.

**~ A soap impression of his wife which he ate/ And donated to the National Trust. ~**

My mind spins with activity. I lie in bed, but do not sleep. Fuck you, bitch, asshole, motherfucking idiot! I'm an idiot? Perhaps. Part of me longs to be like Duo, to get the attention, to be happy and cheerful, to lead the fun life. No. I can't do it. Instead, I think about the high that battle brings me, I hunger for it now. Now, I want it now, oh so badly. My insides ache. I've heard that sex is better, but I don't know. I don't care to find out.

**~ I need a fix 'cause I'm going down/ Down to the bits that I left uptown ~**

The laptop beeps and my body twitches with surprise. A mission? Oh, God, Jesus, please. Don't make me think anymore. Let me react, let me fight. Let me do all that I do, and let me do it well. It's my life; it will be my death. 'Cause there's nothing I'd rather be, or do, or absorb in this world.

**~I need a fix 'cause I'm going down ~**

Yes, a mission. I am excited, although my face remains blank. I've become so good at concealing my emotions, that I even conceal them from myself.

**~ Mother Superior jump the gun ~**

"Bastard!" Cry the world. My mind's a blank slate as I fight. All is reactionary. I feel the controls, but I don't feel pain. Wounded? Hell, no. I keep going no matter what. I'm the perfect soldier, and I will always be the perfect soldier, thank you very fucking much. There ain't nothing you can do about it, no matter how hard you try.

**~ Mother Superior jump the gun ~**

Shoot, shoot. Kill the bastards that get in my way. I can take lives, but I'll never take your souls. That's not my job. A steady eye gazes back at me, a reprimand for all my evil deeds. But, I can never take them back, I would never choose to take them back.

**~ Mother Superior jump the gun ~**

I will change the world. But, it's not for you. I work for Hell, I am the devil incarnate, and in this moment you actually believe it. I kill without remorse and they die without hesitation. And I laugh. I laugh. I laugh.

**~ Mother Superior jump the gun ~**

The battle winds to a close. I have reached the peak of my excitement, the wondrous beauty that is war. Colors swirl behind my eyelids, like a beautiful hallucinogenic. I can't take my eyes off the colors. They represent love and quiet and everything that I do not have in my life, things that perhaps become factors in my deeply subconscious dreams, but that I never wish for. I wait, wait for my head to clear.

**~ Happiness is a warm gun/ Happiness is a warm gun ~**

My breath rings harshly in my ears. Over, over. No, it's never over. Hot metal between my thighs, a gross exaggeration of life in all its forms.

**~ When I hold you in my arms/ And I feel my finger on your trigger ~**

Emotions. Could someone please explain their purpose to me? In my mind, I daydream about a loving family, a mother, a father, a lover. In my real life, I glower at the world and it glowers back. We will stare, impassive, until the end of time. Motherfucking bastards, all of you!

**~ I know no one can do me no harm/ because happiness is a warm gun ~**

You turned your back on me, so I say fuck you. I can live on my own. My happiness stems from the battle, from the common knowledge that my soul is headed straight to Hell. Be it hot or cold, I'm going there.

And the battle is the thing. Over women, men, children, life itself. The battle is the thing. Shakespeare got it wrong, baby. The battle is the thing.

**~ Yes it is ~**

Yes it is.


End file.
